Cold
by Clio S.S
Summary: Law on Minion Island after everything that happened.


Cold was the only thing he could feel.

It was so cold that he doubted he could ever be warm again. Snow had been falling for... hours? Days? How long had he been here? Where was _here?_ As far as he could see, there was only that white scenery, terrain shrouded by the thick layer of snow that kept falling, and falling, and falling... Callous. Merciless.

Indifferent.

Tears had frozen on the cheeks, had crusted on the face like an eerie make-up that had never been eerie at all. Tears had dried in the throat, that was no longer capable of any making sound and barely let the air move up and down in a strange substitute of life. Sometimes, he was certain he was already dead... it seemed he really had died. After all, he could feel only cold. Although he'd been taught that Hell was fire and heat, he'd always imagined it as an empty field, perfectly white and frozen, for Hell was solitude, and white there had never been anything perfect about white.

White meant death.

Snow was falling down in a regular rhythm and without a sound. It moved evenly, as if every flake had its own invisible string to use. There was no horizontal move here, only vertical, down and down. In this Hell, there was no wind to shake the reality like a snow globe and stir that ideal curtain of snow, uncover what lied below, find some proofs that life had once existed.

Like he had himself.

Once, when still alive, he'd been kicked and beat senseless. Once, when still alive, he'd been consumed by fever, sucking all his strength and clouding his mind. He'd felt pain with every cell of his body, and there'd been no part of him that hadn't experience that suffering called life. Now he was numb and empty like an ice block. He could move his hands and legs without feeling them move. Blood had undoubtedly frozen in his veins for ever. White fog before his eyes seemed to creep into his ears and brain. He was trudging through the colourless desert, unable to hear the crunch of snow under his feet. Still, that silence was soothing. He knew - remembered from the time he'd been alive - that silence was safe. It was sound that was an agony.

Silence were assuring.

Before he'd started his journey throughout this cold wasteland, he'd had some thoughts, some goals, some wishes on his mind. He'd remembered he'd had to flee, run away and find shelter, never look back and never, _ever,_ return. That command had filled him until cold had overtaken him and absorbed everything: memory, fear and sense of danger. When the tears had frozen and crying had ceased, when that will guiding him had disappeared, he'd stopped walking and then had retraced his steps. Escape no longer had any meaning, the threat had no longer existed - after all, he'd been dead and nothing could harm him any more. Even that hellish cold couldn't affect him.

He kept walking.

He was climbing up the hill, his eyes fixed ahead. His gaze was moving over the shapes covered with a white veil, shapes one could no longer recognise what they had been. Snow was merciless, callous and indifferent, it changed every thing in a white mound, equalised all things in the most wicked parody of justice. It sucked out colours, muffled sounds, and killed movement, leaving only amorphous mass, just another bulge on the thousand previous ones. Fire was warmth and life. Snow had always been dead.

It was the land of death.

He had no idea how long he'd been walking. Time had no meaning here, maybe it didn't even pass. Lead-coloured sky, one big snow cloud, was like glued to the firmament. Of course, snow was to fall forever. He had no idea why he was walking, moving towards that one place... but he didn't stop, as if his whole will had concentrated in his feet that knew their destination. He followed the traces he couldn't really see, only knew they were there. They took him to yet another mound, yet another tumulus. Spotless white that had long since forgotten red of blood formed the figure of a huge man. He was lying on his back, spread-eagled. Snow was covering him with ever thicker layer, increasing the weight with every single flake. In this strange light, it was almost hard to say whether it was a mound or rather a hollow - the sight was evenly unreal.

White shape amid the shapeless white.

He fell to his knees, his empty eyes staring at the snowy bump, and then stretched one hand. Something inside him stirred, a warning of some kind... but he was no longer alive and had only dead ice instead of heart. His arm - so white - moved itself, brushing the snow aside and ignoring this pointless pressure in his chest... ignoring this sudden knowledge he would regret it. It must have been directed at someone else... right?

No.

He gasped when the snow revealed the face, because for a split second he thought it was... Cora-san. Whoever was lying here looked exactly like Cora-san.

Of course, it couldn't be Cora-san. He had the same blonde hair covered be a hood and the same make-up on his face, but it was not Cora-san. There was no reason why Cora-san should be lying here on this winter wastes of death. There was no reason why Cora-san should be dead when it was him, Trafalgar Law, who was dead. Besides... Cora-san would smoke a cigarette and grin like a total moron; he wouldn't smile with that gentle, serene smile that certainly looked out of this world.

It was not Cora-san.

Still, the more he stared at the face that the merciless snow tried to cover again, the more he felt like running away... the more he had to resist the urge to jump to his feet and flee, and scream before something terrible happened. Before he remembered.

Before the tears melted the ice and pain tore him to pieces.

Yet, he knew he'd never had control over anything...! And now... the memories flooded his mind violently, no matter how he tried to fend them off and stop them... He closed his eyes so that he wouldn't see... (I don't want...!) He pressed his hands to his ears so that he wouldn't hear... (I don't want...!) He hunched over so that he wouldn't feel... (I don't want...!)

In vain.

 _ **When you speak of dying, it's too sad. You were the one that hurt, not I. I feel pity for you. You might live! When you're cured, we'll run away somewhere. Now you can cure your illness by yourself. We outwitted Doflamingo. We won. I'm sorry I lied. I didn't want you to hate me. I love you.**_

Over and over again. Thousands of words looped in his head and remembered by heart. Thousands of smiles, gestures and touches recorded in his body. Warmth, even heat, as if he was standing under the summer sun, free from all evil. Everything thanks to just one man who'd given him freedom.

 _ **He is free.**_

Then a gunshot and silence, and nothing else.

"CORA-SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

Reality exploded with sounds, and every sensation became thousand times more acute. The life, summoned by his memory, fell on him, hitting with pain, suffering and insane terror, yet it didn't let him lose himself in that hurricane of emotions. His eyes wide, scream still ready on his vocal chords, breath tearing his lungs, and his every cell trembling, he started to shake the inert body.

"Cora-san! Cora-san! CORA-SAN! Stop fooling around! Wake up! Please... wake up...! You said that... you said that..."

His voice trailed off, as if it had been sucked by the silence of snow. His chin began to tremble, so he clenched his jaws. Forget it, forget it...! Resisting hysteria with all his might, he frantically looked over the body before him. He touched the face - it was warm, he couldn't possibly be wrong...? He searched for a pulse – but his fingers were numb. He put one ear against the broad chest - but couldn't hear anything through the rush of his own blood.

"Cora...san... Don't use Nagi Nagi no Mi, not now... Cora-san...! Say something!"

He was answered by silence, but the thought of the Devil Fruit reminded him of... Ope Ope no Mi! Miraculous power to perform even the most impossible treatment and cure even the terminal diseases. He had it! And only someone knowledgeable of medicine could use it... which meant, he was thinking fervently, forcing his distraught mind to work, that Ope Ope no Mi had to make it possible to affect a human body. A physician needed to visualise the patient's organism along with the disease process - and perform required changes.

He focused his eyes in the dim light of the winter night, trying to cut off all emotions and make a calm assessment, although it seemed completely impossible. Yes, those were the shot wounds. Too many of them, for a normal person... but Cora-san was anything but a normal human...! He placed both hands on his chest clad in the heart-patterned shirt, now stained with blood, closed his eyes and tried to imagine the bullets in the internal organs, although his heart pounded like mad against his ribs, threatening to blow him from the inside, and red spots spun before his eyes. Bullets...! He had to remove them and then stitch the damaged organs and vessels... Yes, he could clearly imagine it...! He knew how to do it...! Now, work, Ope Ope no Mi! Work!

Yet, nothing changed. The only thing he felt was his own pain, his own weakness, his own fever. Cold, stinging eyes and swollen vocal chords. Nothing had changed. There was no doctor of miracles here, only the twelve-years-old boy unable to do anything.

He raised his eyelids and looked in despair at the calm face that was being covered with snowflakes. He felt he would suffocate. Corazon wouldn't open his eyes, just kept smiling with that unbearable, serene smile. But Law would bear it, would bear everything if only Cora-san looked at him, moved his fingers, give him some sign, _anything_...

Donquixote Rosinante Corazon was beyond recall dead. He had known it all along.

He bit his lips and pressed his eyelids tight, and only swallowed down the tears. He was amazed he still had some. He'd thought he'd shed all before - that time, on the shore, when he'd been departing from Doflamingo to never come back, with powerful magic wrapping him like a cloak and ensuring his survival. It was strange how painful a memory of someone's love might be.

He shook the inert body again, as if still believing he could wake him, against the common sense, against the reason. To Hell with reason...! Neither of them had ever needed it...!

"Cora-san...! You promised we would run away together... You said you... you wouldn't die. Cora-san... don't leave me alone...!"

His voice echoed in that all too real emptiness of Minion Island, but brought no real answer. Cora-san was still lying with his eyes closed and smiling. Though he was here, he already had left too far for Law to ever catch up with him. Such was the truth that no power in this world could change - the truth that took all strength.

He hunched over and lay down next to the tall figure that, he fancied, still radiated warmth. He let the snow cover him with the white veil, wishing to give in to the blistering cold that would freeze everything that was now swirling inside him and cutting his conscious like a knife. Oh, how he wanted to return to that state from before - when he hadn't thought of anything and felt nothing but cold and emptiness...! Even if it was Hell... he didn't deserve anything else.

He wished he could cry over himself - for having been left alone again. He wished he could self-pity - for when he'd finally found someone he could stay with, he had lost him right away. He wished he could curse his fate - for bringing to ruin everyone he loved... He _loved_ Corazon. He hadn't managed to tell him that, he hadn't managed to realise that - until it was too late. Now he was certain of it with every part of his body. Over last six months, Cora-san had filled his life completely... had loved him... had taken care of him and had offered him his presence, and it was more than Law had needed. Even the most wicked man would return such affection...! So, Law would've given him all love he was capable of - not much, but maybe it would be enough. They should've left here, should've escaped from everyone who might pursue them - Doflamingo, the Navy, the World Government - but stay together, for ever. Cora-san had promised that... and now he was dead. He had died for... for...

Guilt crushed him, almost taking his breath away. His heart was racing painfully in his chest. He pressed his fists into his eye sockets to never look at the world again, the world with no light left in it, but he was still trembling all over and could not contain a groan.

Even Hell was too light sentence for what he'd done.

He'd been Cora-san's downfall, and was guilty thrice. He'd brought him to death - the man who'd taken care of him and had showered him with unconditional love. If not for him and his illness, Cora-san would've never left Doflamingo's side... would've never started that crazy escapade to rescue him. He would've stayed in the Family, never suspected by anyone, still incognito, still successful in his mission. He would've never gone against his monster-brother... would've never gone barehanded for the Devil Fruit... would've not found his demise on this damn winter island. If Trafalgar Law had never appeared in Spider Miles and had turned his settled life upside down, Cora-san... would have been fine now. Would have been alive.

The second time he'd failed him here, on Minion Island. He'd brought before him the last person he should have brought. In his naive need to help he'd called the mortal enemy. Why hadn't he listened to him? Why hadn't he believed his assurance that he would be all right? Why had he had to ask a Marine to take care of his wounds? And he'd brought the devil himself, who not only had negated the work of many years, but also almost tortured them both to death. He could still feel all those kick and punches that Vergo had dealt to him. He was amazed that he was still alive and could move... but now it no longer mattered. Now he wished Vergo had killed him, before he'd done the worst thing.

The third time... He couldn't help Cora-san despite his abilities. Ope Ope no Mi, that was able to cure any disease and injury... If he could use it, he would've been able to save Cora-san. Why hadn't he studied the Devil Fruits before? He hadn't believed in their power, had he? He'd regarded them as needless items at best and rubbish at worst, something to not bother himself about. He'd believed only in medicine, not some miraculous inventions that were at odds with common sense. A bitter realisation was that, had he taken interest in them, he might have been prepared for Ope Ope no Mi... he might have known right away how to use it... At least this one time, he might have helped someone else - he, who'd been always helped - and instead he was now lying next to dead Corazon, crushed by his own powerlessness.

Tears seemed to be a great misunderstanding in the face of such crime.

'You killed him,' echoed in his head, and he didn't guard himself against that voice, for he knew such was the truth. 'You killed him, even though he cared for you, stayed by your side and gave you love. Without hesitation, he would do everything for you... he _did_ everything for you, and yet you killed him. You, who were sentenced to die anyway, traded his life for your own. If you had died, like you should, he would have lived. If you hadn't tried to change your destiny, hadn't believed there was some hope, then he, who had all his time given to him, would have lived those dozens of years yet... he would have lived tomorrow... and would have been happy. Why are you still here?'

He was the most worthless man in the world - and Cora-san, that most exceptional Cora-san, had lost his life because of someone like him. Even though it was Doflamingo, who had pulled the trigger, everything had happened because of Trafalgar Law, and nothing could change that fact. To Know he was guilty and couldn't turn back the time, was unbearable. 'Why are you still here?' Yes, why was he still here? There was only one way to restore justice, for he was unable to restore life.

Ha sat up and started to frantically dig around the snow, and soon he lifted up an old-fashioned pistol. He wasn't going to stare at it, though, only cocked it and put to his temple. All he needed was to pull the trigger... and everything would end. He felt calm. He felt confidence. He felt the most evil relief. But, just once more... He brushed aside the new layer of white powder to have the last look at Cora-san's smiling face. He drove away the regret... the thought that, had the other side existed, they would certainly not meet there. But it was all right.

"I'm sorry," he said, or just thought he did.

Like always, he was answered by a smile.

He blinked... and then put the pistol away. He pressed his lips but was unable to prevent the crying and the next moment he was sobbing bitterly when the truth hit him, the truth so hard to accept.

Cora-san hadn't died _because_ of him only... _for_ him...! That difference mattered, that difference changed everything... even if, in the end, he was still dead, and it was crushing Law's heart with an incredible pain... He'd died so that Law would live - and it was his own decision, no-one else's...! He'd considered Law's life to be more important than his own. And even though it was still so terribly unfair, Law couldn't... give up on this life, for it would be exactly what would make Cora-san's sacrifice pointless. He had to live - alone, filled with guilt... but also carrying that love he'd been given and memory of what had happened... hard as it might be...! Cora-san, who had urged him towards life until his last breath, wouldn't be happy with any other choice, Law was certain of it as he was of his own name. Even if he didn't deserve it, he'd never deserved... he had to accept that gift.

He was staring at the face of the man who was pure good. Sobs were shaking his body, and tears wouldn't stop rolling down, despite of sniffing... Memory of being loved was painful... but... that smile was a single ray of light in the darkness. That smile had saved him.

Cora-san had died happy, knowing that Law would live... knowing he'd _saved_ him. He'd forgiven him lack of skills with Ope Ope no Mi. He'd forgiven him bringing Vergo. It probably even hadn't occur to him to forgive him having been involved in Law's life... He'd dedicated him his dying words. He'd thought of him until the very end. He'd died with a smile. Even if Law was the most wretched person in the world, he couldn't nullify it. Even if he should be alone for the rest of his life... that little spark in his soul would never go out...

Yet it was so hard...! Pervasive cold attacked his body again to bite him to the bone with its sharp teeth, but his heart was bleeding with hot blood.

"Cora-san..." he rasped and rested his forehead against the inert chest with no sound inside. He'd long ago thrown the pistol away.

How should he live? How should he go on in the world without any friendly soul? Again, he resented his fate that had given him happiness... and had taken it right away. He couldn't believe he would ever be happy again. He wanted to stay here, by his side... but Cora-san wouldn't want it. Cora-san had chosen this island for his place to die and place of their parting, for Law had to move on. He had to take that loyalty with him, not bury it under this snow without any point. If he wanted to remain faithful, he wouldn't do it dying here.

But... Whole life without Cora-san...? Just half a year ago he'd wished for it... and now the very thought made him suffocate. This, too, was the victory of that black-winged angel, who had turned Trafalgar Law back into _a human_. He'd reached inside that killing machine, had found its heart and then had poured all his love in it. He'd made it possible that the cruel child who had once forsaken the need of others and who had found strength in solitude, was now crying inconsolably because of the loss that could not be compensated. But... was it worth it? This very moment he was certain it wasn't. This very moment he felt he would've rather been that evil man he'd become, if only Cora-san were still alive.

"Cora-san, why did you do it...?" he choked out. "Why... for someone like me? I didn't ask you that...!"

He'd never asked him anything... and yet Cora-san had given him everything himself. Now every thing he'd done and said filled Law with unbearable pain that no tears could alleviate. Still, with some part of his mind, he knew Cora-san had been always right. He had to clutch to that part in order to... go... on...

That smile was an answer to all his questions - an answer he couldn't argue with.

He had no idea how long had he abode beside his saviour, who'd left for ever. He was chilled to the bone and shaken by increasing fever at the same time. He had at least a few fractures, more than a few bruises and three injuries of internal organs. He would die if he stayed here, he was sure of it - and even though something inside him still yearned for it, he embraced that most wounded fragment of himself and consoled it, and convinced it, and put it to sleep. He made his decision. For now, it seemed something without a genuine conviction and faith - just a directive and a dogma he had to abide by, a dry resolve with no real feelings behind - but it was still better than despair and wish to follow the one who'd unawares become his whole world and the only joy.

He would survive and master the abilities of the Devil Fruit. He would cure himself, recover from Amber Lead Syndrome. He would live as long as possible. He would stick to his life and do anything to protect it. He was the only person who could carry the flame named _Corazón_ as well as the memory of that passionate heart, capable of melting even the coldest ice.

Cora-san would have wanted him to live. He'd given him his own life, had passed several dozens of years over him, and with smile. It was obvious that Law had to live for them _both_.

He shoved aside another layer of snow that had piled upon Donquixote Rosinante's worldly form. His teeth were clattering, and his sight was blurred. Constant shivers were running through his body up and down, and his fingers could barely feel anything. He mustered all his strength and pulled the feather cloak from under the inert body. Black wrapped him in warmth, although he might as well imagined that. He held back another spell of crying upon smelling the weak cigarette odour. He shouldn't lose his last energy; it was the only bridge connecting to his life, which suddenly seemed extremely precious.

He knelt down to cast the last look at the man, who had saved him in every possible way. Cora-san's final smile was already recorded under his eyelids, and he knew he would always carry it in his mind. He bit his lips and touched the cheek with cold hand.

"Thank you," he whispered, although he knew it would take much longer to grasp and really appreciate what Cora-san had done for him. But he had all his time to do so.

As he was looking at the quiet face and gathering his strength to leave, a thought occurred to him that maybe one day he would find a way to bring him back to life. The world was full of miracles he didn't know about yet... And if something like that was impossible after all, then he would still have faith that they meet again, this way or another, this life or another. Such passionate hope was at odds with his cold rationalism... but Cora-san had taught him that faith was much greater power than any conviction based purely on logic. Sometimes even impossible was within a man's reach.

Cold was creeping under the cloak, and fever was shaking his body. He couldn't stay here any longer. He rose and turned to walk down the hill. He was treading carefully; his legs seemed just two sticks. Occasionally, he stumbled, then got up and resume walking. His head was spinning, his breathing was shallow, and his pulse was too fast, but he didn't stop. Just like before he'd climbed this hill, guided solely by an instinct and not a reason, now he was moving down, fully conscious, determined to never again lose his grip on reality. Despite fever, his mind was clear, and he was almost calm again. Snow kept falling, caring little about the world, covering everything; soon it would bury Donquixote Rosinante... his mortal remains, for his soul had long since flown to Heaven, and his heart was being carried on by Trafalgar D. Water Law, who knew that he would hate snow for the rest of his life.

Wrapped in black feathers, he was descending the hill with his eyes fixed on the black surface of the sea. He was making his way to the boat he'd spent last six months on, when Cora-san had helped him become a kid again. Now it would take him from this land of death to the world of living, where his place was - but no longer as a little boy. He understood that his childhood had ended here, on Minion Island. He'd died and had been born again as a new person with a new path ahead of him - a path illuminated by the one and only light. He didn't know if he would be able to live the way Cora-san would like him to... He didn't know if he would be able to fulfil the will of 'D'... What he knew was that he would continue Cora-san's mission and stop Donquixote Doflamingo's destructive madness.

He clenched his fists tighter on the soft feathers. He pressed his lips in a thin line. For the first time in a longer while, he felt aggression directed at someone else.

Stop destructive madness...? Maybe he wanted to justify the massacre of Doflamingo and his lackeys he would one day perpetrate. Contrary to Cora-san, he had never been an angel... but thanks to him he'd remained a human enough that he wouldn't smile at the thought of retaliating, even though none of those bastards deserved a very painful death. This very moment, his humanity was being expressed only in pain; his loss couldn't be compensated even by the most elaborated revenge. He was aware that pain would accompany him for the rest of his days... just as that fear of attachment.

He stopped and, overcoming his dizziness, looked up. Snow wouldn't cease to fall... but couldn't really harm him. He realised nothing would ever hurt him again. When he resumed walking, the feather cloak wrapping him like black wings, pain in his heart and solitude closing tight around it gave an assurance of surviving. They gave hope.

He embraced that solitude, for the first time in his life accepted it consciously. Welcomed voluntarily, it didn't really hurt. Still, he was a human, not a machine. He would need other people, he couldn't sentence himself to eternal solitude, even if it seemed the best protection now. Cora-san... Cora-san wouldn't want it. So... he would keep it around as long as he needed it, this time not because of contempt for others... but for his own safety. Not for ever.

Cora-san had left, and Law was absolutely certain that no man could fill the void... But one day perhaps... they would appear people who, one by one, little by little, might fill up that abyss that was now his strength? Cora-san wouldn't like him to be alone... right?

Cora-san had wished him only good. The very first remembrance of warmth spread inside his soul when the words, 'I love you' and memory of an incredibly wide smile lit up his mind. They gave strength, they gave comfort. Trafalgar D. Water Law's life had been worth saving regardless of the price... Now it was his turn to fill it with good things.

He took a deep breath and told himself he would try. He was sure that Cora-san in his heart would always support him.


End file.
